Konkan Diaries - India's West Coast

India never fails to surprise. When you have the 7th largest country in the world chances are your coastline will be just as long. Much of this though remains unknown for the large part. One hears of the French, Italian, and Spanish Rivieras but very rarely of the "Indian Riviera" Apart from Goa (India's Ibiza) and Kerala much of India's Western Coast remains an under-explored gem. This is one of the wettest places on Earth receiving almost 3000 millimeters of rainfall on a yearly basis. You will be forgiven for believing that you have landed in Hawaii or Central America. Hills and beaches run side by side as undulating roads cut across the rugged coastline. Rivers and Estuaries join the sea dissecting the hilly mountain ranges.

I had heard of Mangalore before. Situated in the Southern Indian State of Karnataka my mom found out she was pregnant with me. And so it seemed almost sacrosanct that I visit the place of my origin. I hired a car and headed off to the West Coast of India. Before going to the infamous Goa, this was my first trip to the West Coast. I left on the 10th hiring a personal vehicle in Mangalore, situated in the province of Karnataka. As the flight descended, rolling slopes of endless coconut palms sloped their way into the sea. As I headed to my hotel the roads sloped up and down the undulating slopes flanked by coconut plantations on both sides. Despite being coastal, the terrain was very hilly—an interesting difference from Goa where terrain tends to be quite flat. I stayed at Ullal Beach a few kilometers outside the city where the road ran on a thin strip of land ran alongside the Arabian Sea. The scene vaguely reminded me of Western Cape in South Africa or the Gold Coast of Australia.

The next day I went around the city. I could see evidence of India's rich trade history with the rest of the world. Shores that were visited by the Arabs, Persians, and Portuguese who all left behind their faith and culture contributing to what is now Mangalorean Culture. Due to the region's peculiar geography, most temples seemed to rest on hillsides. From my experience, most Hindu Temples tend to be made of grand and expressive. This on the other hand was plain, simple, and understated. A small wooden structure overlooked a temple pond (characteristic of most Hindu Temples) while a long river ran through the temple area. Almost like the temple contained a natural sanctuary within its premises. The Temple was dedicated to Lord Shiva, the primordial "Destroyer of Evil" and "Lord of the Beasts". In a way, it did make sense that the temple is situated on a green hill. It was the best way to pay homage to nature itself. I then visited the stunning St Aloysius Chapel built in 1899 by Italian Jesuit Priest Antonio Moscheni. The interiors of the Church were inspired by the Sistine Chapel in Rome with Murals that seem to be near-identical to those of the European Renaissance. I then went to one of Mangalore's most famous temples, the Kadri Manjunath Temple.

My next trip would take me along the Arabian sea through some of the most picturesque coastal scenery in the country. Queues of coconut palms flanked the highway with the Western Ghats in the distance. It was easy to forget that we were cruising through the mainland and not an island. All along Traditional Konkan houses with red oxide roofs, colorful walls and tiled Flooring lay clustered amidst a forest of coconut trees. Fishing Vessels lay docked on the sandy beaches. As the vehicle began to enter the town area I saw the Netravati River transforming itself into a vast expanse as it entered the Arabian Sea; the sight was astonishing to behold.

After relishing sand and water for several days, it seemed I was in for a change of scenery my next drive was going to take me through the mountains famously known as the "Western Ghats ". This region is one of only eight "Bio-Diversity" Hotspots located throughout the globe home to over 8000 species of Flora and Fauna. The umbrella of greenery grew deeper and denser as I entered the mountains as a thick mist enveloped the green hills. The landscape writhed into inconceivable angles just as the jungle around me grew more and more tangled. I had reached a land where the wild was the medium and object. On the way, I stopped at the thousand-year-old Varanga Jain Temple - situated in the middle of an alpine lake surrounded by forests and paddy fields on both sides. The only way to get to the temple was by boat. The scene seemed straight out of ancient romantic folklore where a love-struck prince ferried his beloved to a love island (or rescued her from it). Either way, the scene was dreamy. I then arrived at Shringeri where the place where I was staying was located inside an Areca Tree Plantation. A mellowing sense of calm took over me as the vehicle passed through the Areca Tree Canopy.

I soon learned why Shringeri had a tranquil ambiance. It was the place where the Hindu Saint Adi Shankara had chosen to convey his teachings to his disciples. To a large extent, the Hindu, Buddhist, and Jain tradition has always emphasized the individual quest for "Enlightenment" or "Moksha". Through renunciation of the material world and retreating from human civilization, one can dedicate oneself to penance, self-realization, and salvation. A hilly forested area secluded from the rest of civilization seemed apt. I visited the local Shringeri Temple which like the Kadri Manjunath Temple housed a forest within its premises. I then headed to a Jain Temple the next day located on top of a hill. Jainism, a religion similar in its values and teachings to Buddhism was started by Mahavira in 500 BC. Certain schools of thought contest that Buddha and Mahavira were in fact the same people, Yet today both religions exist in the Indian Sub-Continent with interesting parallels to each other. The temple was located on top of a forested hill covered by fog. After traversing through wild forest uphill we finally arrived at a secluded spot overlooking the valley. The mystique of the sight was beyond awe.

It was time to head to my final destination. Gokarna is another favorite beach spot. The trip was a four-hour one that would take me across more than 200 km of mountains and coast. After touring both the mountains and the coast to go on a route where I could see both at the same time seemed delightful. I arrived in Gokarna in the evening. Gokarna is a small temple town that is an important source of pilgrimage for Hindu Devotees. However, in recent years it has attracted popularity amongst Western Tourists, particularly young millennials. The ambiance was similar to Bali which I had visited as a kid, with wooden houses, coastal cliffs, sandy beaches, and ancient temples. It was amazing how in many ways we come back to the same point irrespective of how far or wide we go.

It was time to head back. The journey from Gokarna to Mangalore was another 200 km long coastal one. The entire world converged into a blend of river, sea, and sand. Along the way, I could see the Sarasvati River widening more and more until it dissipated into the Arabian Sea. As I headed back mangroves, estuaries and swamps accompanied me till I entered the city limits. It was hard to imagine in some ways how a body such as a lake or a swamp could drain into such a large body of water. Almost like a key fitting a lock. Upon reaching Mangalore, I stayed at a local house in the suburbs of the city. I visited the local botanical garden which in its own way looked like a forest. Every place is in a way defined by its flora and fauna and the same could be said about Mangalore. It also seemed easy to believe why this was one of the Bio-Diversity Hotspots of the world. The greenery seemed untamed.

Upon finishing my tour of the botanical garden, I headed to the airport which was not far away from where I was staying. Mangalore's hilly terrain meant even the Airport was perched on top of a hill. As the place ascended I could see the waters of the Arabian sea lashing Mangalore's sand-swept and coconut-tinged beaches. It also became clear to me why this place seemed so unique to me. Mangalore was not Goa with its picture-perfect beaches or iconic holiday landscapes. But for all intents and purposes, it remained what it was, a beautiful but unpretentious region with its beautiful hills and sea. And that alone made it beautiful; beauty that was felt but not fetishized.

To be continued....